


Flowers

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: But everyone lives!, Cardassian Culture, Fluff, Hanahaki Disease, I repeat there is NO death in this one, M/M, Medical Care, Oblivious Julian Bashir, Pining, antibiotics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:46:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27011467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: Garak's got flowers in his lungs, and he knows exactly why. Julian is a doctor, and Hanahaki Disease is really very treatable with a simple regimen of antibiotics and lots of rest--it's hardly the death sentence it used to be in ancient times. The flowers aren't going to kill Garak, but embarrassment just might.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	Flowers

In an unusual turn of events, Garak came to the DS9 medical bay complaining of a cough. He refused to be seen by one of the nurses, waiting patiently for Julian’s next availability.

“You hate doctors’ appointments,” Julian said, offering Garak a seat on the examination bed. “This must be really bothering you.”

“It’s not so bad,” Garak said, raising his arms so Julian could scan him more effectively. “It’s the kind of hurt you could go your whole life waiting for.”

Julian squinted down at his tricorder. “According to these readings, you’ve got a touch of Hanahaki Disease,” he said, double-checking it against the medical database.

Garak leaned back against the head of the bed, and looked at Julian with wide, sad eyes. “So that’s it, then,” he said softly. “You’ve confirmed my death sentence.”

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Julian sighed. He went to the replicator, punched a few buttons, and returned with a small capsule of pills. “You’ll need to take these antibiotics twice a day for six months. You’ll be just fine.”

“You can hardly expect me to believe that,” Garak sat upright, angrily. “Antibiotics? Hanahaki cannot be cured so easily. There is nothing to be done for its victims. It kills half of those it touches, rich or poor, with a barbarous lack of respect for social class.”

“It’s actually very similar in symptoms and manifestation to a Human disease called Tuberculosis,” Julian said. “A Federation study found that in compatible species, an average of 1/4 of the population is infected with Hanahaki at any given time, though it’s usually found in the inactive form. You’ve got an active case. Something must have triggered it…have you been under stress, or have there been any major changes in your life recently?”

“I’m in love,” Garak said simply. “And I’ll freely admit I was prepared to die of it. Love is as noble a thing as any to die for.”

“If you were on Cardassia, you might have died,” Julian said, “but with Federation’s medical science, you’ll be just fine. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Wonderful,” Garak sat up stiffly. “It seems I find myself yet again in the position to thank you for saving my life, Doctor.”

“It’s really no trouble, Garak, it’s what I’m here for,” Julian said, confirming a prescription for the right antibiotics to be sent to Garak’s replicator. “You’ll come back if you have a flare-up or any trouble with the medicine, right?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to drag me back if I don’t,” Garak grumbled. “Good day, Doctor.”

“Wait!” Julian ran up behind Garak as he started to stalk away. “Lunch later today? The usual spot?”

Garak hesitated for a long, agonizing moment, before nodding his head politely. “I’ll meet you there.” Garak swept out of the medical bay.

—————————————

“The strangest thing happened today,” Julian said.

“Julian, I’m kind of busy,” Kira hissed, fiddling with her controls at her station in Ops. She was tracking a power drain, but she couldn’t pin down the source. She moved to another panel across the room, and Julian followed her.

“It’s about Garak,” Julian said.

“I hope he isn’t causing trouble,” Kira said, focusing on the sensor readouts.

“He’s got a case of Hanahaki Disease. I haven’t the faintest idea how he picked it up. Do you think I should test the station’s bio-filters, in case one of the docked ships is carrying it?” Julian asked.

“He _what?_ How did you find out?” Kira startled, fumbling over her controls accidentally. She sighed, deactivated the panel, and turned to face Julian.

“He came into the medical bay and asked me to examine him. The scans showed an early stage of the active form of Hanahaki Disease,” Julian said. “Why do you ask? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Oh, Julian,” Kira winced. “You’re telling me that a Cardassian man, with whom you have lunch every day, essentially walked up to you and told you he had Hanahaki? What did you do?”

“I prescribed him antibiotics, of course,” Julian said, confused. “Why?”

“I know you and Garak have your little cultural-exchange book club, but it’s clearly not cutting it. You have a lot to learn about Cardassia, Doctor,” Kira said. She turned her panel back on and started another scan for the power drain. “You should do some research on Hanahaki Disease in Cardassian culture. And you should do it somewhere other than here. You’re getting in my way.”

“Okay. But…what am I looking for?” Julian asked.

“You’ll know it when you see it,” Kira said. She gave him a funny look. “Well, maybe you won’t, but I’m going to think it’s _hilarious_ if you don’t figure it out.”

—————————————

Julian loaded a translation of the Cardassian novel “Petals Are Always Accompanied by Thorns” onto his PADD. Like all Cardassian literature, it was dry and nigh unreadable thanks to the confusing dialogue. But the computer said this was a classic example of Hanahaki in Cardassian culture, so Julian made a brave attempt to read it. The main character had Hanahaki Disease, but he didn’t take medication of any kind. He simply told his closest friend, then stopped speaking to him, wasted away, and died. There were extensive paragraphs following the cessation of the plot line, apparently meant to describe the moral, which turned out to be: “the only Hanahaki that doesn’t kill you is the one you have for Cardassia.” Which made absolutely no sense.

Julian took it to lunch with him, hoping Garak would explain (or at least argue about it for a while), but Garak didn’t show up. It wasn’t like Garak to be late. Julian wondered if there was some problem with the medication, or maybe Garak’s symptoms had progressed too rapidly and he’d collapsed somewhere. “Computer, display vitals for civilian Elim Garak, Chief Medical Officer’s override Bashir Zero One Alpha.”

The computer chirped in response, and Julian looked down at the internal sensor scan of Garak. Completely healthy. No obvious problems. Alert and walking around, as far as Julian could see. “Computer, locate Elim Garak,” Julian said.

“Elim Garak is Garak’s Clothiers,” the computer chimed happily.

Julian walked over. Garak was inside, humming as he worked on a piece of fabric.

“Garak,” Julian waved.

Garak looked up. He was holding a few sewing pins in his mouth. He nodded briefly at Julian, and turned back to his work.

“Garak, it’s already 14:35,” Julian said. “Did you forget about lunch?”

“My apologies, Doctor,” Garak smiled, setting down the pins. He didn’t look up at Julian, and his voice carried that silky smooth tone of a practiced lie. “It’s just I’m dreadfully busy with this garment. It’s for an important client, you know. I lost track of time, but I simply must complete it now. You go have lunch without me.”

“But…we always have lunch together,” Julian pouted.

“I suppose that’s true,” Garak grinned, showing off his pointed teeth. “Not today, though. Perhaps I’m just under the weather. Some of your _antibiotics_ will do me a _world_ of good, I’m sure.”

“Garak,” Julian said. “You know I don’t understand you when you get like this. Just tell me what’s going on. Tell me over lunch?”

“I’m afraid I simply can’t—what’s that in your hand?” Garak almost visibly deflated as he saw Julian was carrying a PADD, the slick smile disappearing.

“I have a copy of Petals Are Always Accompanied by Thorns,” Julian sighed. “I can hardly get through it, it’s just as boring as the other Cardassian books you’ve recommended to me. Major Kira told me I needed to do some more research about Cardassian Hanahaki, and…I, um. I found this in the computer banks.”

“How did you like it?” Garak asked, fake smile plastered back on, the perfect image of politeness.

“I don’t understand it,” Julian sighed, “and I don’t understand the moral. And it’s misclassified as a romance, but there’s no romance, the main character just dies. Is it about his relationship with the disease itself?”

“ _Only Hanahaki for Cardassia will never grow thorns,”_ Garak repeated a quote Julian recognized. Garak sighed, sadly. “It’s ironic you should read it, Doctor, because I must be the only Cardassian that _could_ die from Hanahaki for my state. Doctor…” Garak bit his lip, almost nervously. “Julian. Do you know what causes Hanahaki disease?”

“It’s transmissible directly from person to person,” Julian said. “Infected individuals can have an inactive case for years and never know, until a stress or major upheaval in their life turns the Hanahaki into an active hazard.” He remembered a little from the infectious diseases class he’d taken at the Academy, but he’d also read some recent papers on it after Garak came in with an active infection.

Garak shook his head like he was trying to swat away a bug. “How very _Starfleet_ an explanation. I don’t suppose Humans get Hanahaki Disease, can they?”

“Humans are naturally immune,” Julian said. “We’re one of only a few species that can’t get it.”

“Of course,” Garak huffed angrily, letting out a whoosh of air. “So, If I told you that the “stressor” that caused my “active case” was love, it wouldn’t mean anything to you, would it?”

“You said something like that before,” Julian said, screwing up his face in concentration. “I suppose it makes sense, a sudden influx of the hormones associated with romantic feelings could—“

“Never mind. It’s quite all right, Doctor,” Garak smiled, and it looked a little more genuine this time. “Actually, I’m feeling much better. I’ll take my antibiotics, and we’ll never have to speak of this again. Let’s go get lunch.”

“Um, okay,” Julian said, accepting Garak’s request to “drop it” and following him out to the replimat.

After lunch was long over, Julian couldn’t get Hanahaki Disease out of his head. He pored over dull texts and searched the computer twice over, but he couldn’t put it together. There was a powerful influence of Hanahaki on Cardassian literature, once he looked for it. Julian wondered if it was similar to the way tuberculosis, or “consumption” in Humans, had sparked so much writing and poetry. But for Cardassians, it seemed they viewed death from Hanahaki as weakness. Or perhaps as a strength? Hanahaki was about loyalty…but sometimes it seemed to be about abandonment, instead. Every new text he viewed seemed to contradict a previous one, and every story ended in death, but the computer had without fail marked each one as belonging to the “romance” category. Julian was more confused than ever.

—————————————

Garak coughed up a single flower petal into his hand. It was little and blue, and he recognized it from a plant often found near the Cardassia Prime equator. In the wild, it grew only in the harshest, driest, hottest of conditions. It symbolized hope despite all hopelessness, the ability to overcome the odds. Garak dropped it to the ground, crushed it under his heel, and took two of the antibiotic pills, as his Doctor had requested.

The thing that made exile so horrible was that despite all of its aches, pains, and horrors, it wasn’t going to kill him. Apparently, thanks to the miracles of Federation medical science, Hanahaki wasn’t going to kill him either. Six months of medication on _top_ of what he’d already been through, and then he’d have no more flowers. Wonderful. He’d spent days building up the courage to confess to Julian, and he might as well not have bothered. It was utterly, cosmically ridiculous that Humans didn’t understand Hanahaki Disease, yet they were still capable of producing the flowers in others. The petals Garak had been coughing up for a few days were clearly Julian’s, there was no doubt in his mind.

Garak ordered a glass of water from the replicator. As he took a sip, he prayed that Julian would never bring up the embarrassment of Garak’s confession, never, ever again. On the other hand, Garak had never been lucky enough to escape such tortures before. Why expect a reprieve now?

—————————————

“Odo, you’ve got to tell me what Hanahaki Disease _means_ to a Cardassian,” Julian begged. “Kira keeps making fun of me and telling me to do my research, but I can’t take another book with a convoluted plot and moral I don’t understand. You have to tell me why Garak has been acting so strangely.”

“Acting strangely? How _has_ he been acting since he confessed?” Odo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Confessed? Oh, you mean since he came in for treatment? I guess he’s been…he didn’t come to lunch and I had to go get him, and I thought he was mad at me, but now he’s acting embarrassed, and trying to pretend it’s not happening.”

“I hope you haven’t talked about this with anyone other than Major Kira,” Odo said. “It can be _intensely_ embarrassing for Cardassians.”

“Oh, um. I didn’t know,” Julian flushed. “I just told you, and Kira. And the medical staff reads my reports. And I scanned the bio-filters for Hanahaki, so anyone who works in Ops probably knows it’s on the station.”

“I will tell you what it means,” Odo said, “but if Garak is pretending nothing is wrong, I want you to promise me you’ll do the same once I tell you what’s going on.”

“That’s all I ask,” Julian said. “I just want to understand this, just a little bit better!”

Odo looked around, confirmed that they were alone, and gestured Julian to come closer. He spoke in a low, quiet voice. “For Cardassians, Hanahaki is a private, personal affliction closely associated with love,” he said. “The confession of the presence of Hanahaki Disease is similar to a confession of love, but much closer to a Human marriage proposal. The Cardassians believe that if you are loved in return by the object of your affection, the disease will disappear on its own.”

“And I tried to cure it for him,” Julian whispered, incredulous. “He _told_ me he was in love. I wonder who it could be? He’s never mentioned anything of the sort before, who could he possibly have fallen in love with?”

“Doctor,” Odo sighed. “He knew he had it when he went into the medical bay. He was confessing to you.”

“But…that would mean…” Julian scrunched up his nose, thinking.

“You’re clever, put it together yourself,” Odo grumbled. “Just leave me out of it.”

“I have to go,” Julian blurted, and he burst out of security, running down the Promenade.

Julian practically flew into Garak’s shop, and promptly fell over onto a display, knocking it down.

“Doctor? What ever has you in such a rush?” Garak smiled wryly.

“Garak, I love you. I thought you might not even like men that way, so I never said anything, but I’ve had a crush on you since we met and it’s gotten deeper than that and I just want to have lunch with you every day and be together all the time,” Julian said, all in a rush.

Garak blinked, slowly.

“I’m…I’m so sorry,” Julian flushed brilliant red. He picked himself up out of the display and brushed himself off. “Odo told me Cardassians associate Hanahaki Disease with love, and I thought…since you…um, you might…” Julian let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Forget about it. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You didn’t bother me,” Garak said. He raised an eyebrow warily. “…Humans are rather… _overt_ , aren’t they? There isn’t a subtle bone in your body, is there?”

“Well,” Julian raised his arms and flapped them down again. “You know me, Garak. Heart on my sleeve, falling in love too fast, I just didn’t think…I mean, you don’t want…do you?”

“The _years_ I have spent restraining myself from kissing you,” Garak shook his head, eyes locked on Julian. “What a fool I am.”

“Garak, do you love me?” Julian asked, walking right up to the counter.

Garak leaned over it and kissed Julian, softly, tenderly, but desperately, like it was the only way he could breathe. “Your Human “English” only has one word for love,” Garak said. “How limiting, to use the same word for friendship, romance, life-long partnership…but yes, my dear, I love you.”

“That’s so wonderful!” Julian laughed, holding Garak’s face close in his hands, lips just centimeters away from another kiss. “Garak…what do we do now?”

“If we were Cardassians, we’d move in together,” Garak sighed. “I suppose, on a Federation station, we can go about Human mating customs. I bring you flowers, we drag it out for another several years before I’m forced to propose again, we have a ridiculous ceremony in front of our friends…” Garak blanched. “My apologies. That’s “moving too fast” for Humans, isn’t it?”

“Not fast enough,” Julian breathed, kissing Garak again. When he finally let go, he whispered in Garak’s ear. “Maybe you’ll teach me some Cardassian flirting techniques, too?”

“My dear,” Garak sighed, smiling. “What did you think we were doing at lunch?”

“I… _oh,_ ” Julian blushed again. “I didn’t realize.”

“All those smarts, all that cleverness, and you didn’t know,” Garak laughed. “So much for Human intelligence.”

“Oh shut up,” Julian smiled, and kissed him again.


End file.
